


Debugging

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: Jemma and Fitz recover from the Framework





	Debugging

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: there's some consensual (and quite tame, in the grand scheme of things) D/s-style sex in this.

1\. 

“This way!” Jemma shouted, running toward the sound of fighting on legs still unsteady from disorientation and disuse.

Her momentum was too much and she slammed into the door with an _oomph_. Reaching down, she groped at the doorknob and nearly sobbed when she realized it was locked. 

“Move,” Joey shouted, and Jemma obeyed mindlessly.

As she watched the knob melt, Jemma spared another moment of gratitude to Elena for taking matters into her own hands while she and Daisy were out of commission. And then she was moving again, forcing the door open – only to nearly trip over the LMD head rolling across her path. Catching herself just in time, she looked up in shock to see May, who was breathing heavily and clearly weak but alive and determined enough to take out the threat. They made eye contact and May nodded once. 

Jemma looked away, vaguely registering Mack and Coulson laying Radcliffe’s body on the floor next to Mace’s, and then she focused on the person that mattered most. 

He was sitting on the ground, directly in front of the contraption he would have just escaped from. Jemma guessed he had just collapsed immediately upon waking and disconnecting himself. He seemed almost catatonic, not even moving when Jemma ran to him. She dropped to her knees, sliding the last several inches and reaching out to touch him.

To make sure he was real.

Finally, finally, he looked at her. The look on his face and in his eyes was devastatingly familiar. She remembered it – the pain, the fear, the confusion, how lost and small he seemed – from the last time he woke up and she could breathe again. Jemma moved one hand to cup his cheek and the other to slide through his hair, inhaling to speak words she couldn’t find.

His eyes dropped away, no longer able to meet hers. Jemma shook her head, using her palm to tilt his face back up and towards her. Leaning forward, she placed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. For all that she wanted a passionate reunion, she knew he needed soothing. He needed a gentle reminder of her love, a message that forgiveness was unnecessary but already granted nonetheless. And so she pulled away almost immediately, moving instead to hug him as tightly as she could. 

The only response she received was his breath shuddering in her ear as he tried not to cry. 

2\. 

It took her a moment to realize why she had woken. And then she rolled over to press herself along his back and wrap her arm around him. He was in the fetal position, trembling, his breath rough and fast. He never told her what the nightmares were about – the things he did or the things that were done to him or simply being back there without her – and she didn’t need to know, really. She just needed to be there, to remind him that he was home and with her and safe. 

He could never face her at times like this. But he would clutch the hand she offered like a lifeline. 

“It wasn’t you,” she reminded him. “It wasn’t real.” 

“It could have been,” he whispered. Jemma didn’t know whether to cry at the statement and the tone of his voice or to celebrate that he finally talked for the first time after so many late nights and early mornings just like this. 

Instead she breathed in and out. “I don’t believe that. You were manipulated.”

“But if he – had stayed, if Hydra had – ”

“They didn’t,” she interrupted, finding it harder to add, “He didn’t.”

Fitz exhaled a shaky breath, and Jemma leaned forward to kiss the back of his neck. “And it wouldn’t matter because I would love you anyway.”

“A Nazi killer?”

“I love you,” she argued, almost scared by the strength of her conviction. “All of you. All of your potential, good and bad. The person you are, the person you were, the person you could have been, and the person you will become. I _love_ you.”

3.

He was sitting on the floor when she entered the room, his head the only thing visible above the mattress. She closed the door, then walked around the foot of the bed. It didn’t surprise her to find him staring at the phone in his hands. 

“How is she?”

Fitz shrugged. “Good. The same. I couldn’t tell her.”

Jemma hesitated, then moved closer, dropping down to sit next to him. She leaned her head against his shoulder, wrapping a hand around his elbow at the same time. 

“There are lots of things you can’t tell her.”

“I feel like I should tell her this.”

“What? That an evil computer program tricked you into thinking that you regretted not having him instead of her.”

“Computer programs can’t be good or evil.”

Jemma smiled. There was her Fitz. “I know. And they can’t reduce the complexities of the human brain to some switch function.”

She looked up to watch one corner of Fitz’s mouth quirk up into a smile.

“Do you ever feel like we’re in an infinite loop?” he asked.

“So let’s debug our program.”

The very suggestion, which had been in the back of her mind for weeks now, left her breathless. He turned to look at her with a serious, questioning, increasingly hopeful expression.

“What do you propose?”

“Interesting choice of words.”

Fitz inhaled sharply but didn’t respond. Jemma looked forward again. 

“I’m proposing Perthshire,” she declared. “A cottage. Science. Maybe a dog. Maybe…maybe a baby.”

He ducked his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose for a moment. And then he looked to her, eyes glistening. “You want that? Still? With me? After – after everything?”

Jemma laughed, although it wasn’t really funny. “Oh, Fitz, the hope of it was the only thing that kept me going.” 

Fitz breathed out, just before leaning in to kiss her. She stopped him with a gentle push of her hand to his chest. 

“I have one condition,” she whispered.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Marry me.”

Neither one of them moved for a long beat, and then Fitz’s next move surprised her – he focused on the phone in his hand, dialing and lifting it to his ear. After a moment, he began to speak.

“Mum? Jemma and I will be out to visit soon. We could use some help from you…some preliminary real estate searches and – and could you get grandmother’s ring…what do you – for Jemma, of course!”

Jemma snickered at the one-sided conversation as well as the joyful screaming now coming out of the phone Fitz held several inches from his ear. 

4.

Jemma stared up at the ceiling through darkness broken only by the dim light they left on in the bathroom to guide them through unfamiliar terrain. She listened to the sounds outdoors and of Fitz unsuccessfully trying to get comfortable next to her on the two-person air mattress. It didn’t quite seem real yet, that they were here, that their new life was beginning. She wanted to mark the occasion, and she knew exactly how she wanted to do it, and she hoped she wouldn’t have to wait any longer.

“Fitz?” she whispered.

“Sorry,” he immediately replied. “Didn’t mean to – this thing is hot and bumpy.”

Jemma snorted indelicately. She could go for something else hot and bumpy.

“That’s not the problem,” she said instead.

He stilled and she could feel him looking at her. “What’s the problem?”

Jemma sighed. “We’re getting married in a month. We’re spending the first night in our new home.” She turned her head to face him. “I guess I was just wondering if we were ever going to make love again.”

He was silent for a long beat.

“I’m not trying to rush you,” Jemma added. “If you’re not ready, you’re not – ”

“I’m ready. I have been for…a while. I thought maybe – maybe you weren’t.”

“Oh, I am.” Her heart rate had increased dramatically, and her breath sounded unsteady even to her own ears. 

Fitz reached out, sliding his hand hesitantly across her stomach to hook around her far hip. After an oddly scary beat, Jemma turned to her side, immediately lifting one leg over his and tilting her head to capture him in a kiss. It turned passionate fast; for the first time since the Framework, they were letting themselves physically express the love they had for each other. 

Fitz pulled her closer and she responded by hooking her leg more, using it to close the gap between them and grind her crotch against his growing erection. Her moans mingled with his panting breaths, both growing louder as he broke their kiss and moved to lavish attention on her throat and neck. Jemma fumbled lower down, awkwardly and ineffectively working at getting their clothing out of the way. The air mattress squeaked against the floor as it prevented any sort of comfortable or smooth movement. 

Eventually Jemma huffed in frustration and pushed hard on Fitz’s shoulder. He let out a sound of alarm as he was forced off the mattress and onto the floor. Once she followed him, rolling to land on top, he groaned at the hard surface below him and presumably her weight, but then began snickering.

“Like this, huh?”

“Just like this,” she confirmed. 

They worked together then, pushing down his pajama bottoms and stripping her shirt off, not bothering to do much more with her knickers besides pull the fabric just far enough to the side. And then he was pushing inside of her. Jemma winced, her breath turning a bit ragged at the unfamiliar pressure. But then she began to move, riding him faster and faster, resting perhaps too much of her weight on him as she scratched her nails down his chest, alternating between staring into his eyes and covering his face in sloppy kisses. His hands gripped her arse, fingers digging into the skin as he maneuvered her on top of him just right. Her joy at being together like this at long last and her excitement over this new phase in their lives, not to mention of course the friction of her clit dragging against him and the fullness of his cock inside her, combined to create a swell of pleasure that crashed over her far too soon.

Thankfully they had the whole night. They had the rest of their lives. 

5.

“Are you sure?”

Jemma swallowed, thinking carefully about his question rather than just responding immediately. She was grateful they weren’t facing each other at the moment, but were instead in what had become their regular sleep position. Then she nodded. 

“Yes, I think we need to reclaim that…dynamic.”

Fitz didn’t say anything. Jemma couldn’t remember the last time she felt so nervous. 

“I held a gun to your head,” he reminded her unnecessarily.

“But you looked really hot while you were doing it.”

“Jemma.” 

She could hear him rolling his eyes, and she smiled. “You’ve also knocked me over with a turtle shell during Mario Kart and I’ll still get in a car with you.”

He flipped over and fixed her with a look. “It’s not the same thing.”

She shrugged, more flippant than she really felt, but she soon lost her bravado.

“As hard as it was for me to ask,” she said, hesitant as she tried to find the right way to word it. “I know it’s harder for you to agree. You don’t have to. And if you do and change your mind, that’s what the safe word is for. So you can think ab – ”

“OK.”

Jemma blinked. “OK?”

“Yeah.”

She exhaled in relief and anticipation. “OK. Maybe this weekend?”

“You want to schedule sex?”

She barked a laugh in response, pressing her forehead to his clavicle as she shook with amusement and dissolving tension. Finally, when she could speak, she explained, “We’ll want time to recover, talk it over, whatever. Or if we like it, time to do it again.”

Fitz hummed speculatively. “You seem rather certain of that.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” she promised.

“…How?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

That weekend found her on her knees in the corner of the room, her practically naked body contrasting sharply with his newly bought three-piece suit. Fitz stood over her, cold and dismissive, arrogant and demanding, confident and rough. He held her head firmly as he fucked her mouth, and then he pulled her to her feet, holding her to the wall with one arm across her chest as he fingered her quick and hard. She came with a sob that tore from her throat as loud as any scream. 

Later, after he brought her carefully to the bed and worshiped her body, she rested calmly, one hand stroking through his hair.

“I love all of you,” she reminded him. “Every part.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Let’s not bring that part out very often.”

“OK,” she agreed willingly, if with vague disappointment.

“For special occasions,” he added, and Jemma knew her responding smile was a touch too wicked. 

6.

There was no such thing as a lazy Sunday morning in their cottage anymore. And the king-sized bed seemed too small these days. But Jemma wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when it was too small because of the mutt at their feet and the two troublemakers who liked to crawl in between them during the night and then wake them up far too early in excitement for another day of their young, carefree lives. 

Fitz laughed in response to their childish giggles and squeals, then glanced up at her, eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“You’re the best father,” she mouthed at him.

He grew serious for a moment, and she knew he was thinking of all the fears he had back when they had been expecting the first time. Unfounded fears, of course, because he was more than his programming. 

“I love all of you,” he mouthed back.


End file.
